in shades of grey.We ran up and down these hills, we tumbled the wildcat down these hills, during snowy Winters we slid down them on bags of hay...They were the best of times , they were the worst of times. The 22nd of September is a notorious date in our family, in 1962 it fell on a Saturday and took away our Mother.....Mary Teresa Morley 1930-1962
The 'bags of hay'... we would use these in the snow downhill. When thoroughly wet and cold would traipse back to Mum for a change of clothes and food. Suitably nourished we would return to slopes. Mum would do what Mums do ... as I do now. Thank you for memory.
You captured so beautifully the mourning of the earth and sky, exquisite in its pain and sorrow. Wishing you some gentle moments today as you remember. The pain does not lessen, I think we grow accustomed to its weight.
The image itself is very evocative - taken at 32 is hard to come to terms with... and yourself not much more than a bairn. Life is hard to understand sometimes...
@vignouse I have always (don't know why) thought of you as a Cockney, but now you're use of the term bairn, makes my think you are more North East, maybe Geordie or Mackem.
